


She Steals From the Rich and Gives to the Poor and Rescues Jean-Luc Picard

by little_alien_duck



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2020-11-06 23:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_alien_duck/pseuds/little_alien_duck
Summary: The basic premise of this fic is that I said "What if I rewrote Q-pid but instead of the couple being Picard and Vash it was Picard and Crusher and also she was Robin Hood and he was Maid Marion?"





	1. Chapter 1

Q was bored. The universe was a big place sure, but when you were a Q and had all the time you could ever need, you eventually ran out of interesting things to do. So Q was back to his old favorite hobby. 

He was spying on Jean-Luc Picard. The problem with this however, was that Picard was being  _ exceedingly  _ dull. Q had been watching him for the last week and all he had done was worry about his inconsequential little starship and listen to the android’s poetry and consult with Riker and Troi about crew evaluations. 

Well, that wasn’t quite all he’d done. For the majority of the last week, Jean-Luc Picard had been almost single mindedly focused on one person. 

It was that red headed doctor, Crusher, her name was. Q knew that Jean-Luc had a spot in his heart reserved exclusively for her, had known that since the first time they’d met. Even when he was drooling over Vash, she had always occupied that same place in his regard. 

And the most curious part was that everything was now in the open and nothing had been done. Q was well aware of their little adventure on Kesprytt. It had happened just before Q had gotten bored enough to start paying attention to Jean-Luc’s love life.

Since then the two had been dancing around each other and cutting conversations short enough to keep from saying anything meaningful. 

Q had had enough. If he had to watch any more of this, he was going to lose it, which was not a good thing to happen to a Q. He was going to get them to talk to each other, just to make watching them interesting enough to be bearable. 

The only question was how. 

Q paced. He was given to understand that was what humans did when they needed to think. Most humans probably didn’t pace on the outside of the hull of the  _ Enterprise  _ while it soared through the stars, but Q couldn’t afford to get  _ too  _ human.

As he paced, the soles of his Starfleet regulation boots, noiselessly hitting the metal of the  _ Enterprise _ ’s hull, his thoughts drifted back to Vash. The last time Q had decided to meddle in Picard’s love life, his plan had backfired spectacularly. Instead of convincing Picard that the love of a woman was dangerous, as he had intended to do, it had caused the two of them to grow closer.

Perhaps a similar plan might work again. Oh, that was good. And as a bonus, if he reused an old plan that saved him the trouble of having to come up with a brand new one. 

However, it couldn’t be  _ too  _ similar. That would get boring, the exact thing Q was trying to avoid. 

How to switch it up then? 

That would require some more thought, but it would provide Q with an interesting enough activity.

This could be the perfect distraction. 

…

Beverly Crusher was having a hectic enough morning before she woke up in a forest, having no idea how she’d gotten there and wearing clothes that were both definitely not her’s and definitely had not been in style in the last several centuries. She’d been called into sickbay at about three in the morning because a birth had gone from routine to complicated, and they needed her expertise. Both the parent and child were fine and resting half an hour before Beverly’s shift was supposed to start which had provided the perfect opportunity for her to take a power nap in her office. 

But instead of being woken up by the computer alarm she’d set or Alyssa telling her she’d slept through her computer alarm, she had been woken up to the sound of birds chirping. 

Beverly pushed herself into a sitting position, rubbing her tired eyes. Scattered around her on the ground, in various states of consciousness, were her friends, the rest of the bridge crew, all equally annoyed and dressed in the same ridiculous way she was. 

For several seconds Beverly just sat and stared, her sleep addled brain utterly unable to understand what was going on. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the glade, and the air smelled more fresh than it ever did on the holodeck. 

Then, all of a sudden, two facts registered at the same time.

The first was that there was someone missing. Jean-Luc was nowhere to be seen. 

The second was that the longer she looked at the outfits, the more familiar they were. 

Beverly knew exactly who was behind this. 

“Q,” she breathed, swiveling her head around to look for the rat. This had to be one of his games, and Beverly was damn well not going to participate. 

“Did you just say-” Riker began to say from where he was sprawled on the ground next to her.

“Unfortunately.” 

“Well, that’s not very nice, Doctor,” said an entirely unwelcome sing-song voice from behind them. 

Within seconds, the bridge crew of the  _ Enterprise  _ stood on their feet, as awake as if Captain Picard had just called a red alert. 

Q sat on his horse, looking exactly as he had the last time he’d dragged them into this ridiculous scenario, and grinning in a way which made the rest of them worried. 

“What the hell are we doing here, Q? And where’s the Captain?” Beverly demanded, in her most serious, “I am the CMO and you better listen to me” voice. It wasn’t one she used often, but it had been known to bring more than one foolhardy cadet to near tears. 

Q, however, was unmoved. 

“Do you recognize where you are?” he asked instead. 

“We appear to have returned to your recreation of Sherwood Forest, though I can give no reason for our being here,” Data said.

“Very good Data, and as Doctor Crusher has been astute enough to point out, there is a certain someone missing.” Q stopped to grin as the bridge crew looked at one another, anxiety evident in their eyes. 

“As you might recall, the last time we played this little game, Jean-Luc took on the role of Robin Hood to rescue his Maid Marian. Well, this time he needs some rescuing of his own, if he wants to keep his head. And I believe that would make someone else Robin.” As Q spoke, his eyes had wandered around the glade, with a feigned interest in the leaves on the trees and wear of his saddle. 

But as he got to the end of his sentence, he fixed his gaze right on Beverly, leaving no question as to who he was referring to. 

Beverly could feel everyone’s eyes drift toward her as the beginnings of a blush rose in her cheeks.

“The execution is scheduled for tomorrow at noon, Robin, not that you would care.” 

Q was smirking now, looking entirely too pleased with himself for their liking. Beverly clenched her fists at his barb, irritation flashing through her. She was getting the feeling that Q knew a lot more about her relationship with Jean-Luc than she wanted him to. 

It made her mad. She was mad that she was back in this absurd place, mad that she was beginning forced to play Q’s game, mad that Jean-Luc’s life was in danger because of it, and mad it seemed this was nothing more than Q meddling in her and Jean-Luc’s relationship, something she didn’t want him doing and especially not in a way that involved the rest of the bridge crew. 

“We’re not playing your stupid game, Q,” Beverly snapped. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of her obedience. All she wanted to sit on the leaf covered ground and be in a very bad mood. 

“Don’t play if you don’t want to, you’ll just be giving dear Riker a promotion to Captain,” Q said, sounding almost bored. Beverly knew he was not joking. She was well aware from their past encounters that he felt no qualms about human beings getting hurt. 

Her heart sped up, anxiety twisting in her chest as she thought about Jean-Luc locked up somewhere, the threat of execution looming over him. 

Beverly had lost so much in her life. She couldn’t lose him too. 

“Goodbye Robin.” 

With that familiar pop and flash of light, Q disappeared. Robin Hood and her merry men were alone in the glade. 

…

Jean-Luc Picard firmly believed that there was a way out of every cage, you just had to find it. 

Unfortunately, he was not having much luck. 

He didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten there. One minute he’d been in his quarters getting ready for the day, and then next he was in some sort of stone cell, wearing an unfortunately itchy tunic. 

Picard sank to the floor, sighing. He closed his eyes as he leaned against the hard stone wall. He just needed a moment to think. 

“Giving up so soon, mon capitan?”

Picard’s eyes shot open, his mood instantly shifting from tired resignation to irritation. Q was standing in front of him wearing the outfit he’d worn as the sheriff of Nottingham and picking as his cuticles. 

“Q! What the hell am I doing here?”

“That’s not a very friendly greeting for an old pal.” Q wagged a finger at Picard in disappointment. 

“Neither is leaving someone in a cell, Q.” 

Q did not rise to Picard’s bait. Instead he crossed the small room to lean against the wall and said, “You know what I’ve been doing for the last week, mon capitan?” 

Picard let out a long suffering sigh. 

“What, Q?” 

“I have slowly been coming to the conclusion that you and that Dr. Crusher are insufferable.” 

Picard’s head snapped up, his eyes piercing. 

“Q, if you’ve put her in danger-”

His threat was cut off by Q’s laughter. Q was outright giggling with delight, rolling back and forth unsteadily on his feet. If he hadn’t already been leaning against the wall, he might have fallen down. 

“It’s not her you need to worry about, Picard. If I were you, I’d be more concerned with yourself.” 

That was a warning, but it didn’t exactly sound like a friendly one. 

“What did you do, Q?”

“I’m just trying to give you a push, that’s all.” 

And with that Q was gone, and Picard was no less frustrated or confused than he had been before their conversation. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yes this has taken me over a year to write. I am so sorry. but it's done now. no beta we die like men.

There was a bird chirping in the glade, but other than that, no one spoke. Dr. Crusher was still staring off in the direction Q had disappeared, back to the others. The bridge crew, aside from Crusher and Riker, were looking back and forth between the two, wondering which one of them would take charge. If this were a normal circumstance, and they were going to follow the normal chain of command, Will would be in charge. He was the first officer; it was his job to step up when the captain was not there.

This was not a normal circumstance. Q had placed the ball in Beverly’s court. She was going to have to decide if she was going to act on it. 

“Will,” she finally said, turning around to look at the rest of them square in the face. “This is a game Q is playing, and apparently he’s got it in his head that there’s something going on between me and the Captain, which is obviously ridiculous. I don’t want any of the rest of you to get hurt just because Q wants to have some fun at our expense.” 

Riker let Beverly finish before saying, “Nice try, Doctor. We’re not letting you do this alone.”

He had not consulted the rest of the bridge crew before speaking for all of them, but he didn’t need to. They were all nodding along with him. 

Beverly sighed. This was Q’s fault, and she knew it. But she couldn’t help from feeling that she was responsible for dragging the rest of them into this mess. 

“Fine,” she said, knowing she would not be able to change their minds. “Then we need to come up with a plan.” 

…

To make a plan, they needed some information. Riker and Worf had done some reconnaissance in the afternoon, to see which room the Captain was in. Beverly had gone with them, insisted actually when Will raised an eyebrow. He didn’t try to argue with her, just asked if she was sure. 

“I feel that it would be beneficial for there to be a medical officer on this mission,” she said in the most professional voice she could muster. 

“Alright then, Doctor Crusher will accompany Mister Worf and myself,” Riker said. 

As the three of them set out, they could hear the strains of Geordi inexpertly plucking the lyre behind them. Worf growled under his breath, and despite the situation, Will and Beverly had to hold back laughter. 

Despite their worry about the Captain, it was a pleasant walk. They spent all of their time cooped up on a starship, and it was nice to walk through a forest in the golden fresh air and late afternoon sunshine. They found the castle fairly quickly, most likely because Q wanted them to. Also it was the only castle in the forest, and castles do tend to be tall. 

It was not difficult to tell where Picard was being kept. He was in the tower, just like in all of the fairy tales. 

From where the three of them stood, it looked like there was only one way in, a narrow staircase that wound around the outside of the tower without so much as a railing to hold onto. Beverly’s insides tightened just looking at it. 

That was where Jean-Luc was. If she were going to rescue him, she was going to have to climb that staircase and not look down. 

…

Jean-Luc had made a mistake. There was a single barred window in his cell, far out of his reach. He’d lugged an old crate he supposed took the place of a table in this cell directly under it. 

Then he jumped. He knew it wasn’t his best idea, but he’d been caged for several hours and was getting desperate. His fingers caught the cold metal bar at the very tips, and for just a second, he was holding himself up. 

Something he hadn’t counted on was the fact that the bars might be loose. Instead of holding his weight, the bar jostled, and Jean-Luc Picard came tumbling back to the stone floor. He felt his ankle roll as he hit the ground and knew that it had done something it shouldn’t. 

“Merde,” he hissed as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He’d just significantly lowered his chances of escape. 

However, he had obviously attracted some attention as well because several minutes later a suspicious looking guard burst in. His beady eyes landed on where Picard sat with his back against the wall, ankle throbbing. 

“We heard noise coming from up here,” the guard explained. “You aren’t trying to escape are you?”

“Do I look like I’m trying to escape?”

The guard didn’t seem to know how to answer that. 

Picard sighed. “Even if I was trying to escape, I’m not now. I’ve hurt my ankle.”

“Right,” the guard said. He didn’t look any less suspicious, but he turned and left. Picard was once again alone in the tower. 

…

“Hurt his ankle?” Sir Guy of Gisbourne said incredulously.

“That’s what he said, sir,” the guard reported, not sounding like he believed it any more than Sir Guy. 

From where Beverly Crusher and Will Riker were crouched in the shadows of the castle’s courtyard they exchanged a glance. It conveyed one word. 

_ Shit. _

A swirl of information was racing around Beverly’s brain; it was almost overwhelming. First there was the fact that this made any rescue attempt harder. Then there was the fact that this was the first time Jean-Luc had been in danger since Kesprytt, since he and Beverly laid a lot of their feelings out in the open, not that they’d meant to. 

She had turned Jean-Luc down not because she didn’t have feelings for him, but because she was scared of what those feelings might mean. 

Right now those feelings meant she was worried about him. 

“Will, I know you’re in command right now, but I need you to listen to me. I need you and the others to cause a distraction while I rescue the Captain.” 

Will was looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. She knew he was assuming this was because of her feelings for the Captain, but she didn’t want him to know that he was correct. 

“I don’t know how much time we can give you, but we’ll do our best,” Riker said, before standing up. He was tall. He could be a distraction. 

Last time they were in this situation, Data had blown something up. Maybe he could do that again.

While the guards and Sir Guy were distracted, Beverly crept toward the staircase. Her heart was pounding, though it didn’t show on her face. 

Of all of the places Jean-Luc could be, of course it had to be the one that required her to climb something tall and without anything to hold onto. 

The tips of her fingers skimmed the wall, seeking anything she could latch onto as she climbed. She wasn’t having much luck. She was just going to have to walk fast and keep her fingers crossed that she didn’t fall.

She took a deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this.

The stone beneath her was a dull grey, smoothed slick by years of people marching up and down. Beverly focused on that. She was halfway up the stairs before she realized that she didn’t have the key.

…

Someone who clearly did not have a key was banging on the door. From the metallic clang, it sounded like the instrument being used was a sword. 

“Jean-Luc! Jean-Luc, are you in there?”

Jean-Luc Picard was normally happy to hear Beverly Crusher’s voice, but normal had nothing on the relief he felt right then. 

“Beverly!” he shouted back, struggling to stand. “I’m here.” 

He leaned heavily against the wall. Sweat slicked his palms and forehead with the effort of staying upright. His ankle was almost certainly broken. There was a resounding thunk, and Picard could hear the lock drop to the ground. The door swung open with a splintery creak. 

A very pale looking Beverly Crusher stood in the doorway. Her feathered hat hung at an odd angle, and she had a deathgrip in the sword in her hands. The moment she saw his face, it clattered to the ground. 

“Jean-Luc!” She rushed to him, wrapped her arms around him to take some of the weight from his ankle and to prove to herself that he was really there. 

And then in a move that surprised herself most of all, she kissed him. She probably would’ve kept kissing him until his ankle forced them to fall to the floor were it not for the voice behind them. 

“Quite dangerous to leave your sword unattended, Robin.”

They broke apart with a jump that nearly knocked Picard off his feet. Only Beverly’s medical reflexes allowed her to slip his arm over her shoulders fast enough to catch him. 

Q leaned against the doorframe, twirling Beverly’s sword.

“Q, take us back to the Enterprise, we don’t have time for your games,” Picard hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Certainly, mon capitan, it seems like the two of you are  _ quite  _ busy.” Q waggled his eyebrows at them. With the snap of his fingers they were back in the ready room in uniform, with extremities fully healed. “Don’t get up to too much trouble, you two.”

With a flash, Q vanished leaving the two of them alone. He had placed Beverly in the Captain’s chair, just as a final jab.

Picard almost got the nerve to say something when his comm badge beeped.

“Captain Picard-”

“I’m here Number One. I trust the rest of the crew is accounted for?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Get some rest, that was an unexpectedly early morning.”

“You too, Captain.”

Picard turned Beverly. Despite her evident anxiety, she seemed quite comfortable in his chair. 

“Would you care to join me for breakfast, Doctor?”

“Just coffee and croissants?” 

He laughed, and the tension between her shoulders loosened.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else.” 

“I would be happy to, Captain.” 

They had time before they needed to be on duty. They could spend a long time on their coffee and croissants. And if Q was laughing somewhere, they were far too busy to hear it. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you like this dumb idea.


End file.
